


The Real You

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Getting Together, High School, M/M, Pining, SWSWeek2017, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 10:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: Danny doesn’t have a crush on Stiles. No way.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/gifts).



> Another one for Inell, who wanted Stiles/Danny and “be nice to your seat partner, they might just be your future spouse!” This is an AU where nothing supernatural happened in Beacon Hills.

Danny always hates the start of every school year. There’s a new schedule to learn, a new locker to find, and an influx of baby-faced freshman wandering around. There are also new teachers, new classes, and most importantly, new seating assignments.

He has to stifle a groan when he discovers that his desk-mate for English is none other than Stilinski. He’s weird and awkward, and only ever seems to hang out with his one dorky friend. Danny does not need him bringing down his reputation.

He also, Danny can’t help noticing, has long, long legs. He’s a little ashamed, but sometimes imagining those legs wrapped around his waist is the only thing that gets him through boring lacrosse practices.

Stiles might be undateable, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have _any_ positive attributes. Admittedly, his mouth is another key player in some of Danny’s daydreams.

He slides into his seat, and he’s just about to say something to Stiles, who’s sprawled out in his own chair, when the teacher begins to speak.

“Okay, everybody. I hope you’re in the right place. And be sure to be nice to your seat partner—they might just be your future spouse,” she says cheerfully.

Danny is just thinking about what an incredibly small-town outlook that is, when Stiles turns and actually _winks_ at him.

Who the hell does he think he is?

 

*

 

Their English teacher, Ms. Morton, has them free-write in their notebooks every day, to get them “warmed up.” Danny thinks it’s kind of pointless, but it’s ten minutes of peace and quiet, so he goes with it.

He’s feeling a little low on inspiration, though, so he sneaks a peek over at what Stiles is writing. And he gets a bit distracted, because Stiles really does have nice hands. One of which is resting against his mouth as he scribbles in his journal.

His perfect, pink mouth, that he leaves hanging open _so often_.

Sometimes, Danny really regrets his keen observational skills.

He drags his gaze away, starts writing a story about meeting a handsome guy in a coffee shop, who has an intriguing line of freckles across one cheek.

 

*

 

He expected Lydia to be all over the new girl. What he _didn’t_ expect was for Stiles’ goofy-puppy friend to be all over her, too.

Which means they all end up eating lunch together.

Awkwardly.

Somehow, when he’s trying not to watch Stiles drink his water obscenely, he gets roped into going bowling with everyone. It’s some kind of group date, and since they’re all paired up already, that leaves him with Stiles.

Great.

He’s about to say no, and bow out, but then he catches a glimpse of Stiles’ excited expression, and well. Danny’s not as nice as everyone thinks—it’s just that he usually keeps his thoughts to himself. And also, having an asshole friend like Jackson makes him look really great by comparison.

But he’s not a _monster_.

“Sure, I’ll be there,” he says. He pretends not to notice Stiles’ enthusiastic fist pump.

 

*

 

Jackson is, of course, taking the bowling way too seriously. Everything’s a competition with him, as Danny knows too well.

It is pretty entertaining, though. Because Scott is spending most of his time looking shyly at Allison, sending her these dopey little smiles, while Jackson just gets increasingly more aggressive.

And Lydia looks increasingly more put-upon.

What makes it even better, though, is Stiles. He keeps leaning in and making these snide little comments about how much sex Lydia is going to withhold, and for once he doesn’t sound like he’s in love with her.

Danny thought he had a good grasp of the nuance of sarcasm, having been friends with Jackson for so long.

But it turns out he was wrong.

Because Stiles—Stiles on _another level_.

He’s snappy and sharp and quick-witted, and god help him, he’s _funny_. Sometimes, Danny actually has to walk away, because he’s laughing so hard.

He always knew that Stiles was that weird kind of smart, with immaculate (if eclectic) book knowledge, and just enough street smarts to let him read people really well, sometimes nearly instantaneously.

And it’s actually pretty interesting, seeing the places Stiles’ mind will jump to, all the ideas he’ll connect, all the tangents he’ll go on. He finds himself listening intently, and realizes that, to his surprise, he’s actually enjoying himself.

 

*

 

Stiles might be fascinating, but he’s still a dork, Danny thinks consolingly to himself. There’s absolutely no reason for his tiny crush on Stiles to get any bigger. Not when he’s seen Stiles trip over his own feet three times today.

Except that Danny’s beginning to wonder if Stiles can read his mind. Because somehow he seems to have a direct line to exactly what Danny is into.

Stiles comes to school wearing a tight, short sleeve shirt, which reveals surprisingly muscular arms. Then, the next day, he shows up in a dark Henley that emphasizes the lean lines of his torso, and rides up enough for Danny to see a thin sliver of his hips.

He catches himself staring more than once.  

And he keeps touching his face really often, dragging those long, beautiful fingers across his lips. It’s really distracting.

Danny thinks he’s doing okay, though, until the day Stiles wears jeans so form-fitted, they almost look painted on. They give him a perfect view of Stiles’ (rather nice) ass, and his muscular thighs. It kind of makes Danny want to put his hands all over Stiles, makes him wonder what it would be like to have Stiles pressed up against him, to be kissing him—

Yeah, Danny totally has this crush under control.

Totally.

 

*

 

The worst part is, Danny can’t stop _thinking_ about Stiles. And not even in his usual, mildly judgmental way. No, he’s thinking about what Stiles would look like if he smiled. Not a smirk or a grin—a real, genuine smile. He finds himself wondering what Stiles is thinking, what Stiles is doing.

And he knows it’s bad, because even _Jackson_ , who’s dealing with relationship issues with Lydia, has noticed how distracted he is. It’s awful.

He knows Stiles is only in the popular group by virtue of his best friend, who finally got brave enough to ask out Allison, but still… Stiles is looking less and less undateable these days.

Danny is finding that he actually _wants_ to spend more time with Stiles. They only have one class and lacrosse practice together, and he’s really starting to regret that.

So when Stiles says, “Hey, we’re all going to the diner after school, you want to come?” Danny barely hesitates.

He begins to second-guess himself, though, when he shows up and Stiles is the only one there. Was this just one of his schemes?

But as he approaches the table, Stiles says, “Allison and Scott are running late, they’re busy. But they’ll be here soon.”

Danny raises his eyebrows, sits down across from Stiles. “Oh? And are Jackson and Lydia _busy_ too?”

“I don’t want to know,” Stiles says, making a dramatically disgusted face. “I don’t think Jackson would eat diner food anyway, but Lydia said she’d be here.”

“All right,” Danny says, nodding. If their friends are having sex in the backseats of their cars, that’s not Stiles’ fault. “You know, it’s not that Jackson hates diners. It’s just that he can’t eat very much fried food—it hurts his stomach.”

“Really?” Stiles says, looking like he’s been given a gift. “Good to know,” he adds in a low mutter, and Danny has to work hard to keep the smile off his face.

They end up trying little ice cream samplers while they wait for the others, and Danny has a lot of fun. Stiles sends him a few lingering looks throughout the night, but he doesn’t do anything else. Doesn’t even _hint_ that he’s interested.

Danny pretends that he’s not disappointed.

 

*

 

“Stiles, what the _fuck_ ,” Jackson says irritably, as Stiles parades past him eating French fries for the third time that day.

Danny just laughs.

 

*

 

Ms. Morton tells them they have to write a creative story, at least three pages long, with their desk partner. It’s due next week.

“Writing buddies!” Stiles says excitedly, raising his fist. Danny doesn’t even hesitate to bump it with his own.

Stiles invites him over to his house to work on the story. He sprawls across this bed, scribbling determinedly in a notebook as they discuss ideas.

Danny sits in Stiles’ desk chair, and spins himself idly when he can’t think of anything for the plot. He tips his head back, and stares up at the Stormtrooper poster on Stiles’ ceiling as he takes another turn.

“I think they should kiss now,” Stiles says abruptly.

“You said that three paragraphs ago,” Danny says, looking over. “What is up with you and kissing?”

“It’s just nice,” Stiles says dreamily. “And I think there should be more of it in our story.”

Danny doesn’t respond right away, too busy wondering who exactly Stiles has been kissing. “Fine,” he says eventually. “They can kiss.”

Stiles looks up then, and Danny kind of expects some line about how they should be kissing, too. But he just says, “Awesome,” and “Don’t worry, I’ll make it good.”

Danny nods, feeling strange. The Sheriff isn’t home, likely won’t be for hours, but Stiles hasn’t made any mention of it. Hasn’t invited Danny to sit on the bed next to him, hasn’t suggested doing something _fun_ , instead of homework.

Nothing.

He’s not used to being alone with someone, not without there being any innuendo, or any implications of what’s going to happen. Hell, even Jackson has propositioned him for sex before. So it’s weird that Stiles hasn’t made a single move at all.

He’d never admit it, but he’d actually gone to Lydia, and asked her if Stiles might be into him.

“Stiles has a crush on half the school,” Lydia had said, not looking up from her essay. “But yes, I’m quite sure he’s interested in you.”

Danny hadn’t bothered to ask how she knew. There was no point.

And Stiles was not exactly known for subtlety, so the fact that he hasn’t made his interest obvious is freaking Danny out.

So is the realization that, if Stiles _did_ ask him out, Danny might not say no.

 

*

 

Stiles isn’t making any moves, but other people definitely are.

The winter dance is in two weeks, and Danny has already witnessed three people ask Stiles to go with them. He’s turned each of them down, but that’s not the point.

Stiles has been sitting at the popular table for months, has been a lot less impulsive and reckless, has been letting his buzz cut grow out, and has actually been getting to play first line during lacrosse games.

He isn’t undateable anymore, and it’s obvious that more than just Danny have noticed.

It’s making him a little nervous.

Danny had honestly expected Stiles to be mildly shunned, as usual, from all social events. He’d been expecting to have time to decide if he wanted to take Stiles to the dance, and then scoop him up at the last minute, if needed.

But now…

Stiles could say yes to someone at any moment. Danny is out of time to decide—and honestly, he already has.

He wants to go with Stiles. He really, _really_ does.

He watches Stiles stroll across the classroom to their shared desk, and decides he’s going to do something.

Soon.

 

*

 

Danny’s not a smooth as people think—usually he’s the one being asked out, so he doesn’t have a lot of experience with doing the asking himself.

Still, he tries to play it cool.

“Hey, Stiles,” he says, after lingering in the locker room until almost everyone is gone. Stiles is somehow still not fully dressed, and staring at the muscles of his bare back throws Danny off a little.

“Danny!” Stiles says brightly, turning around. “What’s up?”

He has his shirt in his hands, Danny notices, but he still hasn’t put it on. And his athletic shorts are sitting rather low on his hips, so he has to work to keep his gaze fixed on Stiles’ face.

He considers asking something low-risk, like _Are you going to the dance?_ or _Have you said yes to anyone yet?_ Instead he comes right out and says, “Do you want to go to the dance with me?” It ends up sounding confident, and Danny breathes a little sigh of relief.

Stiles’ eyes narrow slightly, like he’s suspicious, but he just says, “Yeah, I do. You can pick me up at six.”

Danny quirks an eyebrow. “But the dance doesn’t start until seven-thirty.”

“I know,” Stiles says easily. “I figured we could go for burgers or something first.”

“Oh,” Danny says, and thinks _like a date_. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

And Stiles gives him a smile, just a little bit smug, like he knew exactly what Danny was thinking.

 

*

 

It doesn’t go like the movie cliché—Stiles answers the door instead of his dad, so he doesn’t get to come dramatically down the stairs.

Danny feels a little breathless anyway.

He keeps sneaking peeks on the drive to the diner, because Stiles looks better in a suit than he would have ever imagined. And when Stiles reaches over and fixes his tie, fingers gently brushing his neck, it sends a pleasant shiver through Danny.

He’s always liked the novelty of being incredibly overdressed in a casual place, and it’s amusing to think about how absurd they must look, ordering burgers and fries in their fancy clothes.

Stiles takes off his suit coat to eat, and seeing him there in just a thin dress shirt and tie is strangely appealing. Stiles slides his foot alongside Danny’s, a gentle pressure, but he’s concentrating too much on not getting food on his clothes to do anything else. Watching him lean over and take a careful, tiny bite of his burger is cute and amusing, so Danny doesn’t really mind.

And when he realizes Stiles is doing this because he wants to make sure he looks good for him, it sends a hot flush through Danny.

 

*

 

Despite his improved lacrosse playing, Stiles is still pretty clumsy. So Danny expected to have to coax him quite a bit, but he agrees to dance readily enough.

It’s a slow song, and Stiles doesn’t hesitate to step into his arms, hands settling warmly on Danny’s shoulders. He’s not trying to pressure Stiles in any way, but Danny finds his gaze continually returning to Stiles’ mouth as they slowly dance together. He just can’t quite help himself.

Stiles is as observant at ever, of course, and he catches Danny at it right away. His lips quirk up, just a little, before he leans in and kisses him, soft and a little shy.

Danny feels himself sway into it as he tugs Stiles closer, pressing them together. Now he understands why Stiles likes kissing so much. One of Stiles’ hands slides over to cradle the back of his neck, thumb stroking the short hairs there. It makes Danny feel warm all over.

Stiles breaks the kiss before it gets too intense, and rests his cheek against Danny’s as they turn.

“I knew I couldn’t ask you out,” he says quietly into Danny’s ear. “I knew that if I tried, you’d shoot me down without even thinking about it.”

“What?” Danny says, pulling back a little so he can see Stiles’ face.

He gives Danny a lopsided smile. “I knew I somehow had to get you to ask _me_ , instead.” He looks down. “I did everything I could think of. I convinced Ms. Morton to make us seat partners. I went to the jungle a lot, trying to figure out how to dress and how to act, so I could catch your attention. I even asked Lydia for advice. And it worked, but now I feel like I tricked you—”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Danny says firmly, keeping his hold on Stiles when he tries to step back. “That was the real you at the bowling alley that night, wasn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles says, looking amused in spite of himself. “I couldn’t fake _that_ level of sarcasm.”

Danny grins. “Well, _that’s_ the Stiles I had a crush on, even though I wouldn’t admit it. And yeah, you dressing better, and acting calmer, and actually getting off the bench made it _easier_ to ask you out. But I liked you before that, okay?”

Stiles nods, but he still doesn’t look quite convinced.

“I don’t feel tricked,” Danny says. “And honestly, I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. The dorky, awkward _you_.”

Stiles smiles so bright, Danny is pretty sure his heart skips a beat. And he can’t resist leaning in and kissing Stiles again.

And even when the music changes to a fast, upbeat song, they just stay in each other’s arms, slowly swaying together.

 

*

 

A few years later, when they’re nearly done with college, Stiles gets down on one knee. “Danny, will you marry me?” he asks, and then he fucking _winks_.

“Oh my _god_ , Stiles,” Danny says, because he knows exactly what that is in reference to.

Then, of course, he says _yes_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
